


Even When I Had Nothing

by gwenstacys



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwenstacys/pseuds/gwenstacys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve insists on Bucky staying with him while he recovers from traumatic events and attempts to regain his memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even When I Had Nothing

_I come up hard baby, but now I'm cool,_

_I didn't make it sugar, playin' by the rules..._

 

 

Marvin Gaye's "Trouble Man" erupted from the radio on the bedside table, immediately filling up the mostly bare, minimally decorated room. It was one of those modern radios that looked like it was constructed in the 1930s, but actually had the ability to play radio stations, records, compact discs, and music stored on phones. Steve set it up in his spare bedroom only a few days after inviting Bucky to stay there, figuring that it would provide him with some sort of familiar comfort of the time he left behind. The notion was undoubtedly kind and nothing short of good intent, however, Bucky was still getting used to the concept of 21st century technologies with the clarity he was regaining, so more often it was a source of confusion rather than security. Still, he accepted everything that he was given and said "thank you," without question. Steve couldn't give him his life back, but he sure was determined to try. 

The song was nearly over by the time that Bucky found the energy to turn down the volume so that all that could be heard was faint static. He was considering turning it completely off, pulling the dark curtains closed, and staying under the blankets for as long as he was able. Steve wouldn't bother him. He would be concerned, sure, and probably make sure to leave food and extra blankets outside of the door for convenience, but he wouldn't push Bucky beyond comfort. Steve, the man who sleeps wrapped up in a sleeping bag on a hardwood floor every night, who wakes up before any trace of sunlight is visible in order to make breakfast and extra strong coffee for Bucky and anyone else who stays over, has never once asked for anything in return from his friends that didn't have to do with work. As far as he knew, the only thing that Steve did for himself was go on early morning runs through the park, although even then he would usually ask Sam to join him. 

Bucky sighed loudly, frustrated with reminders of his own selfishness and the guilt he felt every time someone did something nice for him. One of these days they're going to give up on him. Natasha is going to stop calling to check in everyday and offering to talk for as long as necessary; Sam is going to become tired of running errands and attempting to keep Bucky informed on what's going on and all that he's missed in the past years. Steve has to have a breaking point, even if it takes a long time to get there. If he doesn't, he's even more superhuman than they thought.

A sudden knock on the door startled him.

"Buck?" Steve inquired quietly, opening the door just enough to allow the minimal amount of light to creep in. 

"I'm awake, Steve, you can come in." Bucky slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard, wincing from the pain of the recent bruises that haven't yet healed. 

When the door creaked all the way open, he could see clearly now that Steve was wearing dark dress pants, a button-down shirt, and loosened tie. The areas around his eyes were quite red and swollen from what he could tell in the dimness of the room.

"Oh..." Bucky lowered his voice at the sight of him, feeling even more guilty for forgetting what day it was. "Did you just get back from the service?"

Steve nodded and sat down at the end of Bucky's twin sized bed, being careful to avoid Bucky's legs which were almost longer than the bed itself, and dropped a booklet next to him. On the front was a photograph of Peggy that looked rather official - from the old S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, he assumed - and dated. It must have been from a few decades ago when the organization was in it's prime. Her long, pin-curled hair was just beginning to turn grey, and she had the kind of smile that could persuade anyone to act to her desire. 

"I wish I could have..." Bucky bit his lip, turning the pages of the booklet and avoiding eye contact with Steve. "I wish I could have seen her... you know... once more." He took one last look at the photograph before handing it back to Steve. "You never did leave your best girl, did you Steve."

Steve smiled sadly and loosened his tie more, even though it was almost entirely undone. "It was a really nice service. Sharon told some stories from her childhood of visiting 'Aunt Peggy', and a few other relatives had kind speeches to give as well. I was one of the pallbearers... it was the very least I could do. I would have done more if I could."

"I know you would have."

Steve half-shrugged, passively lifting his shoulders before giving Bucky a quick pat on the leg. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright, Steve, really. You should go get some rest or something, I'm sure you weren't able to sleep much last night, especially on that thin blanket that you call 'close enough to a bed'." 

Steve gave a genuine smile at that and reached over to prop up a pillow behind Bucky for support. "There. You know, Buck, you really should use some of these pillows to help out your arm, it must be-"

"I said I'm fine." Bucky cut him off quickly, tugging at the pillow so it barely touched his metal arm. 

"Bucky..."

"I don't want you worrying about me when there are literally hundreds of more important problems that you could be dealing with right now, and probably are for all I know, because you hardly talk to me about what's going on at the base. I have to hear details from _Sam_ , and even then, they're usually relayed days after the fact." 

Steve sighed and stood up suddenly, causing the springs in the bed to creak. "You know very well that I don't want to distract you with Avengers business, it would only make you more stressed than you already are."

"Distract me?" Bucky scoffed. "It would practically be a vacation. All I do all day is lie around your apartment and read about places I haven't been able to go to, and people that I'll probably never see in person. I am suffocating here, Steve. The least I could do is be at least somewhat useful."

"I told you already that I just don't think you're ready to go out there yet. You're still fragile, and that kind of exposure might be too much too soon."

"Fragile. Really." Bucky pulled back a blanket to fully reveal his metal arm. "What part of me seems fragile to you, exactly?" 

"That, that right there. You think you know what you're capable of, but you can't seem to comprehend that maybe you're getting ahead of yourself. Sure, you know how to fight, and argue, and talk your way out of things, but do you know how to interact with normal people? How to be in a difficult situation without losing yourself?"

"I think I lost myself a long time ago." Bucky replied coldly. "I can get by on my own, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But you don't have to." Steve's voice softened. "You told me that once, remember?"

Bucky was silent. 

"It was after my mother's funeral, when you walked me back to my place and made sure I was going to be alright. You offered to have me stay at your place, and make forts out of the couch cushions in your living room like we did when we were kids." Steve smirked. "I didn't take you up on it, but a part of me wishes I did. Maybe I would have been better off."

Bucky wanted to remember. He wanted to remember the drive back to Steve's place - if the radio was playing music or if they agreed on silence. He wanted to remember the promises he made his friend, and how Steve must have convinced him that he didn't need help. He wanted to remember the living room forts made by careless children who couldn't fathom a world in which they weren't safely in the company of one another. 

Instead he matched Steve's amused expression, falling into his role. "Yeah... I think I remember that. Thank you." He pulled the blanket back over his arm, sparing the reminder of what was lost and the lifetime that could never be found. Even by Captain America.

 


End file.
